


Real Boy

by Banana Boy (imbetterlive)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Agoraphobia, M/M, Sex Dolls, Shut-In Yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-27 06:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imbetterlive/pseuds/Banana%20Boy
Summary: Yuuri is an overweight, friendless, twenty-something-year-old shut-in. He hasn't left his apartment in three years. Even he gets lonely sometimes, however and a lover is exactly what he needs. Just... not a living one.





	1. Pretty Silicon

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooo boy. I don't know if any of you have already read my snk/spn work but... I'm kind of notorious for never finishing anything. So hopefully this inspiration lasts and I can force myself to put actual time and effort into every chapter. I'm fucking excited for this, y'all. The description might have deceived you; this is no ordinary story. If you want to read and find it out for yourself, go ahead. If not...
> 
>  
> 
> ....  
> ...  
> ..  
> .
> 
> Yuuri orders a sex doll online. That said sex doll is Viktor, and... somehow he comes to life. Shenanigans ensue. What kind of shenanigans, you ask? Well, not even I know that just yet.
> 
> Also, chapters will probably be this length most of the time! Ya girl doesn't have a great attention span

Yuuri hadn't set an alarm in three years.

It didn't really matter when he woke up, he'd realized a few weeks into his new lifestyle. He did not exist in the same plane as everyone outside of his apartment did; he could eat breakfast at five pm and lunch at three am and nothing would happen. The realization had been equally terrifying and freeing. 

So now he woke up whenever he woke up. Today, it was six o'clock in the evening, but the heavy blinds were drawn over his windows so the sun could have just risen and he wouldn't know any different. He woke up curled over his chair, face patterned with square imprints left by the keys of his keyboard, which he had conveniently fallen asleep on. He rubbed the grooves-- they were deep-- and grunted as his back cracked thanks to the awkward and painful sleeping position his exhausted body had chosen. It was a new hobby of his to stay online until he was too tired to even move his mouse. It wasn't like he had much else to do, anyway.

He was halfway through his second bowl of cereal, the first meal of the day, when he was reminded of what exactly had kept him up so late in the first place. Balancing the bowl in his hand and stepping over the various piles of clothing, clean and not so clean, and empty bags that had once held groceries or fast food or clothing, on the rare occasion he bought it. Cleaning had become a thing of the past once he'd stopped inviting people over; his sink was piled high with dirty dishes, and his dishwasher had been holding the same clean load of plates and utensils for close to two weeks now. He paid no mind to it.

When he made his way back to his computer he sat back again, drinking the last of the sugar syrup from the bowl in one long slurp. It coated his teeth and tongue in sticky artificial goodness. Luckily, he had not closed out of anything when his face had decided to try and type last night; the page was still up where it had been. A gaudy pink title reading 'Pretty Silicon' heading a brightly colored website, with four similarly pink tabs at the top.

_Wearables_

_Toys_

_Lubricants_

_RealBoys™_

The fourth tab was a darker pink; that was the one Yuuri had clicked on. The page displayed over fifty little pictures with descriptions beneath them. Each picture exhibited what very much appeared to be boys, all looking to be in their late teens, all beautiful. They were sex dolls made of silicon. Yuuri had seen them in an ad underneath a filthy video he'd watched almost a month ago and he'd visited this page often since. He was not interested in the blondes, in the brunettes, in the ones with dyed purple hair and lip rings-- no, he was only interested in one. One on the very last page. A boy with long, ethereal silver hair, white skin, and pink lips. Yuuri couldn't get that angelic face out of his mind. He licked his lips and shifted forward a little in his seat, which creaked as he clicked on the name. Viktor. A video began to play.

_With our new line of RealBoy hyperrealistic silicon dolls, you'll never have to spend another night alone. Each doll is crafted in our special facility and hand-painted, then double-checked to ensure utmost customer satisfaction. With your doll, you can customize the eye color, hair color, skin color, size of the-_

Yuuri tuned the video out. As the voiceover played, shots of Viktor himself were shown; him sitting up, wearing clothing; him laying down on a bed in tiny black underwear; him in the shower, completely naked, perfect little body on display. His skin looked so soft. Right now there was nothing soft about Yuuri. He'd been rubbing himself off to these videos-- well, this one in specific-- ever since he'd discovered it, real porn be damned. It was an obsession or near one. Now he let his hand slip under the hem of his basketball shorts, one size too small though he'd only bought them a month ago, and fondled himself, pausing the video on a shot of Viktor on a bed, laid awkwardly in a way a human would not, legs spread. He could see the sweet pink roundness of his balls, and-- God, god, god.

He made a mess. That wasn't anything new. He let it dry, eyes heavy though he'd just woken up, and hovered his mouse over the 'add to cart' button. Twenty-five hundred dollars. Viktor cost twenty-five hundred dollars. It was more money than Yuuri had ever spent on one thing, save for his apartment, and it was the only part of this that made him think twice. It wasn't like Yuuri had a shortage of money, though, considering that his job as a website programmer paid well and he saved a lot of money not going out, but...What if Viktor wasn't as perfect as he looked in the videos? What if he didn't feel good, or Yuuri felt awkward, or... it was stressful to think about it. Less stressful now that an orgasm had loosened his muscles and mind, but still stressful. 

Except he didn't have self control when it came to a pretty boy like this, and god damn it, he was sick of his fucking hand and the occasional pillow. He was lonely, and he wanted someone to sleep with. Just someone who wouldn't judge him, or talk back to him, or leave him. And Viktor was guaranteed to do none of those things. Before he could change his mind he clicked the button, proceeded to checkout, logged into his PayPal, and kept clicking forward. The words 'Thank you for your order!" popped up on the screen in that same bright pink, and suddenly Yuuri had something to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you liked it, and if you want more! I'm already writing the next scene (which will definitely, 100000000% have yuuri fucking a sex doll, thankyouverymuch) love u guys!! Any suggestions are also welcome and I will try to accommodate them as best as I can


	2. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's Real Boy arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the attention, jeez louise! I hope I can keep your interests piqued :)
> 
> Also-- Yuuri is most definitely mentally ill, or at the very least delusional. The way that he treats Viktor is not normal nor healthy.

Yuuri had always felt quite comfortable in his mid-sized apartment, but in the three weeks it took for Viktor to be made and shipped and finally delivered, he was restless. He paced, and even did the dishes that he'd not touched for probably the same amount of time. His own boy. His own real, at least by branding, boy. Yuuri had never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend before. He'd barely even ever had friends. So regardless of the fact that the boy he was waiting on was silicon and very much not alive, he could not help but anticipate it like one might anticipate a lover coming over. He combed his hair, finding that it had grown to his ears since the last time he'd cut it with kitchen scissors, and washed his face, frowning at the sore red bumps on his forehead and chin that resulted from barely washing his face except for when he showered-- which wasn't often-- and eating mostly junk. All of his groceries came delivered from a delivery service from a nearby grocery store, and for the most part he ordered things he liked to eat, because why would he do anything else? Sure, he ordered the occasional few ounces of vegetables for something like stir fry or fruit for a pie, but mostly he stuck to the processed diet his parents had never let him eat when he was a kid. His parents. He missed them; they talked often, about once a week, but he hadn't seen them since he'd locked himself away. They invited him over often but he always made some excuse, too ashamed to tell them that he was living this way. He'd made his peace with it in just about every situation except that of talking to his parents.

His mail came delivered to his door, and left there. The mailman for the apartment complex had long since given up on getting Yuuri to sign for anything, and Yuuri was grateful for it. All of his basic necessities came in the mail, save for water and oxygen and sleep, so it was just about every day that something came. Lately, though, Yuuri had been waiting eagerly for each delivery. The first week he'd moved his chair and computer to the door so that just in case Viktor came one single day after being ordered, he would be ready. He'd forced himself to stop the second week because the anxiety was driving him nuts, but by the third week he was right back to it. Every day he heard the gentle 'thud' of packages being placed in front of his door, and each day he rushed there as soon as he'd heard the stairwell click shut and knew the mailman was gone, but each day, without fail, he was disappointed. Small boxes, things that seemed inconsequential compared to what he was waiting on.

He was cooking himself dinner at three in the afternoon one Monday-- or Tuesday, or Wednesday; he really wasn't sure-- when he heard the familiar thud, and the only thing that kept him from running was that his food was still over heat, and he didn't want to ruin it. Carefully he turned the chicken over a few more times, then turned the heat off and put the pan aside, stepping over an empty egg carton he'd tossed on the floor last week because the trash was too full and he didn't want to empty it and put in another bag. The egg carton was only the beginning of a path of more wrappers, some still smeared with food, and he stepped over that too, choosing to ignore it. Just like always. He scratched his belly where his gut was hanging out from underneath an old t-shirt with a rip in the shoulder, and used a thumb to pull up the elastic hem of his underwear, the only clothing currently adorning his lower half. When he reached the door he peeked out of the peephole to make sure the mailman had gone, then pulled open his door, and it felt like all the breath had been sucked right out of him. There was a large, vaguely coffin-shaped box that he could not mistake for anything except what he had been waiting on.

It was hard to lug it back into his apartment. He left his door wide open, a first, as he dragged the box inside, wheezing and panting unattractively and trying his very hardest not to bump it into anything. He didn't want to hurt Viktor. Eventually he got the box into his bedroom, which was possibly the most unused room in his apartment, and ran back to the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors. He tripped over the goddamned egg carton on the way back and bumped his hip hard into the kitchen counter, cursing and hopping his way back to where his lover was waiting.

"Sorry," he said between pants to the box, settling down onto his knees beside it. "Sorry. I don't mean to-... I'm not always so vulgar. I won't curse so much." Viktor had a sweet face. He probably wouldn't like if Yuuri said too many bad words. He was so absolutely careful with the edges of the scissors cutting the pieces of tape from the sides of the box, and when he opened it the first thing he saw was another pink box inside labeled 'RealBoys', with 'Viktor' underneath it in cursive script. When his eyes trailed up the box, his heart felt like it had stopped. There was a window of plastic on the top of the box, and underneath he could see Viktor's face. Viktor. His Viktor. He was not so careful after that, ripping the box apart like he was ripping the blouse off of a woman in a bad western romance novel, until Viktor was right there beneath him, body dressed demurely in a dark purple turtleneck and jeans. His pretty little feet were bare, however; his shoes had fallen off while being shipped. They were sitting in the end of the box.

"Oh," was the first thing Yuuri said. "Oh. Your feet... they're cold, right? It's so cold outside..." he searched through the accessories wrapped in plastic in the box until he indeed found a pair of thick knitted socks, pulling them up onto Viktor's beautiful little feet as gently as he could. He resisted the urge to kiss the beautiful arch of them. He managed to relax minutely when Viktor's feet were covered, though he was still starstruck. His whole life he'd admired beautiful people, people who would never be interested in him and that would never even so much as look his way. People like Viktor. Now Viktor was here, in his apartment, laying there like an angel. All for Yuuri. All for Yuuri.

He was suddenly hyperaware of himself; his greasy face, his too-small shirt, his lack of pants altogether. Oh! How could he let Viktor see him like this?! How could he be so unaware? He promised Viktor he'd be right back and hastily covered him in a sweatshirt that he smelled first to check that it was clean to keep him warm, before rushing off to the bathroom. He washed his face, combed his hair with a comb he ran under water to keep his frizzy hair down, then just took a quick shower altogether and soaped himself down. That was better. Now he smelled nice. He shaved the tiny amount of stubble he had to speak of, then rushed past Viktor in embarrassment to get his clothing, and finally knelt beside him again, shivering because he hadn't waited long enough for the shower to warm up before getting in. 

"I'm sorry about that," he said softly. "I... I should have been more prepared for you to come. I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome. I'm really glad you're here. I'm going to... I want to put you on the bed, okay...? You can sleep there instead..." he didn't wait for a response-- obviously-- and instead reached into the box, very gently slipping one arm underneath Viktor's neck and under his hips. He was cold, very very cold from the outside world, and Yuuri lifted him up easily onto the bed. He weighed just about nothing. He didn't need the instruction manual-- he'd read it a hundred times online over the past three weeks-- so he began to very quickly assemble everything from the box. The first thing he did was pull a plug and a little tube from the box, clicking them together and climbing up onto the bed next to Viktor, apologizing as he lifted one of his arms up to expose a small button on his side. He pressed it and a little quarter-inch space opened up, into which he plugged the contraption. The other end went into the wall, and a quiet humming sound began to join the sound of his breathing in his otherwise quiet room. It was warming Viktor from the inside out, just like a person.

He sat by Viktor's side and held his hand while he warmed in case it was scary for him. He knew he'd never done this before. The plug shut off by itself when it had warmed him a hundred percent and Yuuri took a deep breath. His hands felt shaky. Okay. Okay, you can do this. Viktor is here for you. He's not leaving. He's not.

"I just want to... I want to tell you that..." as he spoke, he began to gently pull the sleeves of Viktor's shirt up his arm. "I want to say that I'm really... I won't hurt you. I promise. It's just... I don't know if I can wait. You're so pretty. You..." the shirt came off all the way, and when he petted a hand down Viktor like he was stroking a cat his chest was warm like real flesh. The buttons on his jeans were next, and then the jeans themselves; he left the socks on. His underwear was a little black thong and Yuuri's hands were shaking so badly now that he could barely get it off of him.

"It's okay," he said as he slid them down Viktor's thighs, swallowing hard. His cock, a cute little pink thing, was hard; that was the customization Yuuri had chosen. He wanted Viktor to be aroused by what Yuuri did to him. It would crush his self-esteem if he stayed soft. He tried to be diplomatic about Viktor's naked body. After all, he'd spent three weeks fantasizing about what he would do when he was here. He had planned on kissing him, caressing him, showing him how beautiful Yuuri thought he was, but when it came down to it he could do none of that. With one more deep breath he spread Viktor's legs, and as soon as he saw the candy-pink of his tiny little asshole he was done for. The struggle to get his own pants and underwear down was so hurried that he scratched himself in the process, and barely remembered to grab the lube from the box down beside the bed. He covered himself, achingly hard like he hadn't been in a very long time, and hunched over Viktor as he pressed himself inside unceremoniously. Oh. Oh, God, it was so good. So good. Was this what he had been missing? Viktor was so tight and yet stretched willingly to his ministrations, like his body wanted it just as badly as Yuuri did. He was warm and soft and wrapped around Yuuri so tight, so-... so.... 

His thrusts were short and hard and fast, and he gripped Viktor's small, feminine waist for dear life as he gasped and grunted and let out little obscenities that seemed to echo in the small room. Viktor's body was pliant underneath his and his face had the prettiest little smile, like Yuuri felt good, like he wanted it harder and more and--

Yuuri came deep, deep inside, and his cock slipped out soft. He watched in numb arousal as a drop or two of pearly white slid out from where Viktor had closed up again to just as sweet and tiny as before. Then he collapsed on top of the doll that probably weighed a fourth of what he did, exhausted, and pressed a kiss to bubblegum-pink lips. He was out like a light.

When he woke, he got off of Viktor and tucked him underneath the covers like a gentleman, walking naked to the kitchen and finding the food he had abandoned. He warmed it and ate it, looking at himself in the reflection of his microwave and smiling. Viktor liked him. Viktor had liked having sex with him. The apartment felt a hundred times less lonely already just knowing he was in the other room. He was happy.

Happy, of course, until he returned to the bedroom a half an hour later after finishing his food to find the bed empty. His jaw dropped and fear seized his chest; had Viktor left? Had he gone? Not even a single part of him acknowledged that that was impossible, that Viktor was a _doll_ and couldn't just get up and walk away. He searched the entire apartment frantically, tears in his eyes, and stopped again in the kitchen. Viktor was there. Viktor was there, standing up and searching in Yuuri's fridge, pretty hips swaying from side to side as he hummed a tune Yuuri did not recognize, beautiful long hair swept over one shoulder. As Yuuri watched, feeling like he was perhaps on the verge of a heart attack, Viktor turned to him, the spitting image of the doll that had laid on his bed an hour ago and very much alive.

"Do you have any chocolate?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEX SEX SEX SEX pls leave a comment


	3. It's Real!™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's sex doll is alive, and, well, Yuuri's pretty sure he's dreaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the love!!!!!!!!!!!!!! xooxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxox

Yuuri just stood there, mouth agape, shock coursing through him like all of the blood in his body had been replaced by it. Part of him was fucking _terrified_ ; it was like a horror movie. A doll come to life. But Viktor wasn't a scary doll, he was... well, he was beautiful. And so the rest of Yuuri's body that hadn't been consumed by fear suddenly was, because he had been starstruck enough as it was without... without... without Viktor _moving_. And talking. And oh God, now he had legs, so he could leave--

"Can you hear me?" The same sweet voice he'd heard a moment before sounded again and Yuuri forced himself out of his own head, where he'd retreated for God knew how long. His expression was still unattractively dumbfounded and he tried to pull his mouth back closed. Both hands were clutching his own chest like he'd been stabbed. "I'm pretty hungry. But... oh. Are you alright?" 

No, no, no, no. This was the worst case scenario. Viktor was approaching him. Viktor was walking towards him and, oh God, he could probably see the acne on Yuuri's forehead and the one or two hairs he'd missed while shaving and what if his breath smelled bad and-- 

\-- Viktor was touching him. His hands were so warm, warmer than even the steamer-plug had made him, and Yuuri held his breath. There was a small, dainty hand on his own, and then an equally pretty thumb rubbing the back of it. He couldn't take his eyes off of that thumb. Not a single flaw anywhere, just smooth, fair, pretty skin, a round thumbnail, perfectly pink cuticles. Just because Viktor was alive did not mean he was human, Yuuri decided, because there was no human in the whole world whose thumb was that perfect. He was so caught up in it that when a petite little body pressed to his for a hug he nearly shoved him off on instinct. 

Viktor was hugging him, and that was... strange. Yuuri had braced himself to face disgust-- at his apartment, his appearance, what he'd done to Viktor, oh God, he'd fucked him and Viktor _knew_ \-- but he found nothing of the sort in the embrace. Viktor had to stand on his tiptoes to get his arms properly around Yuuri's neck, it seemed, and Yuuri stood there stiffly with both arms to his sides, watching the wall beside Viktor's head. His hair smelled like shampoo. His _hair_ , which had been _plastic_ \-- 

"Hello?" This time Viktor's voice had what Yuuri thought sounded like an air of amusement to it. He hadn't always been the best at reading between the lines when people spoke, but it was pretty obvious this time. He took a breath, embarrassment flooding him when he realized he hadn't spoken him, when a hand knocked gently on the back of his head. "Anyone in there?" Absolutely mortified, he stepped back altogether, putting his hands out in case Viktor tried to come close again. God, it was like Viktor was some giant scary raging bull and not a pretty boy that Yuuri would probably suffocate if he put his whole weight on him.

"I-I'm sorry!" He blurted that out because it was the first thing that came to his mind, and watched for the inevitable judgement in Viktor's expression. He refused to be hopeful when he found none. If it wasn't here now it would come later; he'd learned his lesson over the years. "I... I... I didn't mean to... who are you?" It was a stupid question. He knew who Viktor was, just... not.... well, how the fuck he was alive.

"Viktor," Viktor said.

"I know that!" Oh god, Yuuri was really making an idiot out of himself. He clasped one hand to his forehead, feeling a little dizzy. "But you're... you were plastic. And now you're... you... isn't this weird? Isn't this not normal?" He had to check. He'd been locked away so long that maybe someone had come up with the technology to turn dolls to humans by now and he just wasn't aware of it.

"I dunno." Viktor shrugged and giggled, and the sound made Yuuri's insides curl into something ugly. He had the distinct feeling he was being laughed at. But still, Viktor never frowned, or gave him a nasty look, nor was there bite to his words. This whole situation was just absolutely confounding. "I've never done this before. I guess you haven't either...? Well, I don't know how it happened, if that's what you're going to ask. But I'm here, so there's no point in wondering about it, right? I'm really hungry. Can I please having something to eat?"

"You can't... you can't just stay!" Yuuri blurted again, and fuck, if he could cut his vocal chords right now he probably would. Why couldn't his brain filter his words before they popped out like that? That wasn't how he'd meant to say it at all. He just couldn't house somebody else. He couldn't house the most beautiful creature the world had ever seen. Not him. Not lonely, friendless, unattractive, maybe-a-little-overweight Yuuri. No way. His entire existence was something he did not want somebody so beautiful to have to see. It would have been depressing. But... Viktor's face dropped.

Really dropped. He looked like somebody had just sold him a house and then burnt it to the ground in front of him with all of his belongings inside. Absolutely blindsided, was how Yuuri would describe it, like he hadn't imagined for even a second that Yuuri might say that.

"Oh," was what he said, and looked around the apartment once, nothing but disappointment in his eyes now. "Oh. But... where will I go?"

"The.... factory?" Yuuri guessed. If Viktor had come from there, maybe he could go back. Maybe they would know what to do. But immediately he knew he'd put his foot in his mouth again, because Viktor's round eyes filled with tears, and then he began to cry.

"Oh!" This time it was Yuuri's time to exclaim. "Oh, I didn't.. I didn't mean... oh, don't cry. Please? Oh..." He wanted to die. He felt like a giant clumsy elephant as he stepped forward and patted Viktor's shoulder, trying to comfort him. Viktor appeared inconsolable; his crying was audible now and big fat tears were wetting his face and his naked neck. Oh yeah, he was naked. Now was not the time. Nobody had ever hugged Yuuri besides his parents and his sister, but at least that was three people's worth of experience, so he tried very gently to put his arms around Viktor. He was terrified of being pushed away, so much so that he kept his arms in an awkward ring around Viktor's shoulders so he would not touch him just in case Viktor would find it disgusting for their bodies to make contact. As soon as he was close enough, however, Viktor clung to him around his waist like a koala and buried his face in his shoulder just like that. 

Yuuri found it strangely fulfilling to give comfort. He patted Viktor's back, then did the same to his hair a few times, and decided that he could not bear to make Viktor leave, even if he would probably want to eventually. Once Viktor's tears had slowed Yuuri took a breath.

"You can stay," he said, and gasped when he was squeezed hard. Viktor had quite a grip for somebody that petite.

\------------

As it turned out, having Viktor around was a lot like having a pet. He fed him-- ice cream was his favorite, and Yuuri didn't even feel bad about sharing-- helped him get dressed, and entertained him. Which didn't take much. Most of the time Viktor just wanted to stare and learn about whatever Yuuri was doing. It didn't matter that Yuuri had ordered Viktor as a sex doll; there was no _way_ that he was going to have sex with him again, not now that he was living. Not ever. He'd go back to his hand. At least he had new material, though. Viktor liked to have his hair brushed, he quickly learned that first day, and it was the most intimate thing he'd ever experienced to sit there with him and tenderly brush out any knots or tangles, of which there were usually none. Yuuri cleared out space in his bedroom (he even vacuumed and washed the sheets out of embarrassment over how long it had been since he'd done either) and let Viktor sleep there, while he took the couch. It was weird, but nice. He didn't dare tell his parents when he called them that somebody was living with him, because no matter how much he liked Viktor and how well they were getting along, he knew it wouldn't last. He knew Viktor wouldn't stay. He almost felt selfish, sheltering him in here, because part of him knew that as soon as Viktor stepped outside and saw all that the world had to offer-- all the people better than Yuuri-- he would be eager to go. But Viktor never once expressed interest in going outside. So for now Yuuri played it by ear.

 

It was two days before Yuuri woke up on the couch after a snack-induced nap to a strange weight in his lap, and nearly had a fucking heart attack when he realized it was Viktor, wearing just his turtleneck and his undies. Those undies that Yuuri had dreamed about every night (which was only two nights, but still). 

"W-What...?!" That was about all his short-circuiting brain could manage to put together.

"Yu~uri," Viktor said, and it was less childish than his normal behavior. There was nothing playful about it. "I remember what you did to me."

Absolute mortification took over Yuuri's body. Oh, God. Oh God. He wished that his windows opened far enough to jump out and die. Viktor remembered. He had never felt this level of humiliation in his life. Viktor knew that he'd put his cock inside him and laid on him with his stupid chubby body, and... oh, God. 

"I liked it," Viktor continued, and the railroad train that was Yuuri's brain at the moment switched tracks from humiliation to complete confusion. Surely he was making fun of Yuuri. Yes, that had to be the case, he was making fun of him. 

"I'm s-so sorry," was the next thing Yuuri got out. He whispered it. He felt like he might cry. Viktor was smiling, and although Yuuri could not detect anything nasty in it, he was sure that it was mean. He'd never been very good at reading facial cues anyway. "I'm so... I'm so..."

"Didn't you hear me?" Viktor interrupted him, and now he was rocking back and forth in Yuuri's lap like an overexcited child. Yuuri bit his lip until it turned white in an effort not to feel all that weight right against his dick, because Viktor was really in a bad position, and-- "Why didn't you do it again?" Yuuri was rendered speechless again and he just stared dumbly up. The dim light from the television illuminated the outline of Viktor's left side, and Yuuri could just barely see the curves and contours of the rest of his features. He looked... ethereal. As always. Viktor's beauty alone made Yuuri feel self-conscious. And wow, Viktor was either very clueless, or really trying to rub on Yuuri's dick, because there was no way he didn't feel it. He was chubbing up from the pressure. Soft, pretty hands reached down for his shorts and he smacked them away immediately, flushing red. He didn't want Viktor to see him. His body was embarrassing.

"No," he whispered, and Viktor looked confused, leaning down to see him better. The hands that had been trying to extrapolate him from his clothing now rested against his chest, and Yuuri turned his face away. He didn't want anyone, let alone Viktor, looking at him that closely.

"Why not?" Viktor slid away despite his question, and Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a gasp of horror when the boy did nothing more than move until his face was between Yuuri's legs. Oh, god, this was worse, a million times worse.

"Please don't," Yuuri said, voice strangled in his panic, close to tears again as Viktor's hands went for his waistband. He didn't know why Viktor was doing this or what he wanted but surely what he wanted wasn't what Yuuri had to offer. Yuuri was below average in length, only five inches and some change, and it was embarrassing. Viktor hushed him and when he felt cool air on his privates he covered his face with both hands and blinked hard to keep back the tears.

"Oh," Viktor said. He sounded surprised, and then there were fingers around Yuuri. He waited for Viktor to say something that would shatter his heart, but that did not happen. In fact, there was silence for so long that Yuuri dared to peek out between his fingers. The sight of his cock, embarrassingly mostly hard from being looked at and rubbed against and touched, being held up right in front of such a beautiful face was something he'd never imagined even in his wildest dreams. It was too embarrassing even in fantasy; all he could think about was the person in his fantasies being offended, disgusted by his intentions. But Viktor's face was not disgusted. He looked... pleased.

"It's big," Viktor continued, circling his fingers round. "Here. Thick. I like that." He pulled his fingers down once, rolling Yuuri's foreskin away from the head, red and glistening. Yuuri jumped when the tip of a pinky finger touched him there, where he was so sensitive. Oh god. Yuuri didn't even have time to wonder if this was actually happening before there was a mouth around the head, suckling like Viktor was curious. Yuuri let out a noise embarrassingly similar to a squeal and jerked; he didn't know how Viktor managed to keep him in his mouth at all. But it stayed that way, gentle mouth and warm tongue delivering him pleasure that he had never before felt. All he could do was watch wide-eyed and openmouthed and gasp when Viktor pulled off again, leaving him wet and aching hard. His foreskin rolled back up into place when Viktor let go, and Yuuri let his head fall back. "O-Oh--" 

He didn't even have time to finish the noise before Viktor was on him again, this time with more enthusiasm, and up-and-down bobbing joined the gentle sucking. Yuuri clutched onto the couch for dear life, mind blissfully free of anything but how good it felt, how pretty Viktor looked, how turned on he was, how he was going to fucking _come_ \--

Viktor swallowed, his throat contracting around Yuuri, and without warning Yuuri was off like a shot. He squirmed and moaned through it like he was dying and Viktor swallowed it. He must have, because it was just... gone. And when Viktor pulled away and smiled his teeth were pearly-white and his tongue was pink and clean. He tucked Yuuri away, patted his leg, and curled up on him like a dog. Yuuri put an arm around him, numb with shock and pleasure and the knowledge that no matter how hard he'd tried to not get attached, it was going to hurt when Viktor left no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls lev comment am comment goblin must eat comments 2 live


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